


The Redoes Of Achilles

by fanaticfangirl



Series: What should have happened after The Song Of Achilles [1]
Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Achilles redoes his mistakes, M/M, POV Achilles, Reincarnation, So I guess shes kind of an oc, Sort of reincarnation fic, Thetis is actually kind of awesome, What Have I Done, first fic ever, no offense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-01-15 20:43:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12328524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanaticfangirl/pseuds/fanaticfangirl
Summary: Basically, Achilles gets another chance. Thetis calls in a favor, because she can't be a total a-hole, and Achilles gets the opportunity to be with his love, Patroclus, again. Sort of a crossover between the twelve labors of Hercules and The Song Of Achilles. But really, this story is what I think should have happened.





	1. Athena and Olympus

_Paris aims. Apollo touches his finger to the arrow’s fletching. Then he breathes, a puff of air- as if to send dandelions flying, to push toy boats over water. And the arrow flies, straight and silent, in a curving, downward arc towards Achilles’ back. ___  


_Achilles hears the faint hum of its passage a second before it strikes. He turns his head a little, as if to watch it come. He closes his eyes and feels its point push through his skin, parting thick muscle, worming its way past the interlacing fingers of his ribs. There, at last, is his heart. Blood spills between shoulder blades, dark and slick as oil. Achilles smiles as his face strikes the earth. ___  


“Mighty Achilles.” he greets, and next to him appears Thetis. She nods at him, and Achilles knows instantly that she has done something.  
“Lord Zeus.” Achilles says, and falls to his knees. He may be heartbroken, but he is not stupid. “Gods and Goddesses. May I politely inquire as to what happened?”  
“We have called your soul to us, to make a deal.” says Hera, who is seated to his left. She has long black hair and milk skin, tied into a bun at her head. She wears a simple circlet crown of gold. The gods sit in a half circle, and Achilles stands in the middle. “The Trojan War is over. Greece has won. But with its finish, so many lives have been wasted.”  
“We offer you a trade.” says the Lady Athena, her grey eyes fixed pointedly on him. She looks tired. “If you do not accept, you shall go to Elysium, but will never see any mortal you care about again. Should you agree, you will complete a quest for each of us, and we shall each pick one person to be reincarnated with you, in the 21st century, with their memories upon seeing you. Do you accept?”  
Without hesitation, Achilles agreed. He would do any deed to see Patroclus again, there was no question in his mind concerning that.  
“Then let the trials begin.” says Zeus. “Daughter, you asked to begin?”  
The Grey Eyed Lady nodded. “To regain one of your friends, I ask you to complete a task that will require several of his strengths. Wisdom, cunning, and brawn, will be needed to kill the Nemean Lion. Bring me his pelt, and you will get him back. I will return you to Earth, in a place where the Lion resides.”  
Odysseus. Achilles knew no one else with those traits. Odysseus was a good man, and Achilles’ friend. Although he longed for the assurance of Patroclus, he agreed.

He found the beast in a foreign land Athena called Africa, a place he did not care greatly for. There were many strange beasts, that he had never heard of and did not seem entirely dangerous. Once he found the beast, the task was almost too easy. After attempting and failing to harm its pelt, the Beast roared and Achilles saw his chance. With a great swoop, he threw his bronze dagger into the animals heart, the strength of his throw making the dagger plunge straight into it's heart. Achilles was thankful that Athena adored Odysseus, and therefore did not make the task too complicated. He had no doubt that she could destroy him if she put her mind to it. After he gave the pelt to her, she confirmed his suspicions and he regained Odysseus.  
The Lady gave him a brief viewing of his old friends soul, though he appeared as a man about Achilles's age. He was almost transparent, and could not see Achilles. The only thing that made him sure that it was in fact Odysseus, was the mans eyes. Only Odysseus had eyes that shone like the sea and contained wisdom equal to Athena's. Zeus rapidly escorted Odysseus's soul to another room, however, and that was the last Achilles saw of him. Zeus pointed him next to Hephaestus.


	2. Hephaestus

Hephaestus was one of the gods who remained irresolute. He was on one of the more gorgeous thrones, that at first glance seemed simple, but was covered in buttons. He was lame, but in his lap lay a walking stick that would not be odd sitting next to a king. Though Achilles had heard many tales of how hideous he was, he was not as bad as he had imagined. He was no great beauty, especially compared to the other gods, but would not have been jeered at in a town. He was smaller than the other Olympians, even smaller than the goddesses. He did not have nearly as much as a presence, slouching slightly. He spoke briefly, voice hoarse and harsh. His task was also simple, and Achilles suspected that Thetis had called in a favor with him. After all, the God was indebted to his mother, who had cared for him after he was thrown off Mount Olympus, first by Hera and then Zeus. It was to regain the armor Hephaestus had made him, which had been retrieved after he died. Achilles was put back on Earth, and he trudged rapidly to the Castle where his armor now laid, by a king named Achaikos. He had spent a pretty penny on it, it having been stolen by bandits upon Hecotrs death. Whether the King knew it had been stolen or not Achilles would never know. The armor was kept in a room near the front of the castle, but Achilles didn't bother to be inconspicuous. He had a job to do, and wanted to get it over with. In one rapid swoop, he forced the door open with his sword. Inside was the gold armor, beautifully displayed in a case. Achilles ignored the pang of memories that flew through him when he saw it, and rapidly dressed. He was swarmed as soon as he left, but knocked any who approached him out. At first, he almost killed them, casual as anything. But then, a voice broke through his thoughts. Patroclus's voice, to be exact, scolding him for harming people who were just defending themselves and had done nothing to him.  
Achilles was tempted to ignore it, but he also remembered what had happened the last time he had ignored Patroclus. His death. Achilles would not allow that to happen again, even if the voice belonged only to his imagination. So, Achilles did what the voice told him, and left the castle blood free.  
He arrived dramatically at Mount Olympus, a figure in gold and shining slightly. He could feel godly blood coursing through his veins, but ignored it. He had no use for immortality anymore. Achilles knelt before Hephaestus, and handed him the armor. He barely stopped himself from smirking at the look on the Gods face.  
"Good job, Lord Achilles. You have fulfilled your task promptly, and not taken anymore lives. For your efforts, you will regain the warrior Diomedes, a kind but strong soul. He has been your friend, and will play a good role in your new life."  
Achilles walked away a bit disappointed. Diomedes was preferable to Agamemnon, who he probably would kill if he ever saw again, but he had not truly known the man. He only got a flash of his spirit, once again younger than he had been in Achilles's life. He was similar to his older self, however, eyes shining with a familiar kindness. Hephaestus sent him to Dionysus, for his third task.


	3. Dionysus

His third task came from Dionysus, another wild card. He was perched on his throne of vines, brown hair curling, a wine glass in his hand. Each god stood roughly ten feet tall, their thrones magnificent. Dionysus was still a fairly new God, and had not been present for the Trojan War. Still, this was yet another God who owed Thetis a debt for helping him, and so the task was difficult, but not impossible. Like Hephaestus, he barely spoke when he relayed his task. Instead, he smiled mischievously at Achilles and surveyed him for a few minutes, before speaking. His voice had a tipsy tone to it, but he was not drunk. Achilles's task was to retrieve an apple from the garden of Hesperides, as Dionysus wished to juice it. The hardest part of this task no doubt would be to convince the Lady Hera, who the garden belonged to, entrance. Surprisingly, she was quite willing when he asked her permission, but Achilles felt that she had a trick or two up her sleeve. When he arrived, he tricked the dragon, Lagon, into running after the Nymphs who guard the tree, and swiftly retrieved the apple. Lagon was huge, bigger than the palace almost, and Achilles was glad he didn't have to fight it. He had no idea what he was in this state, and how dying again would affect him, but didn't want to take the chance. The gods might not give him another chance if he died again. He returned to Olympus, to see Dionysus and Hera smiling, and Aphrodite and Ares scowling. Achilles allowed himself a small smile, the most happiness he had shown since Patroclus's death, at Ares.  
“Well done.” said Dionysus, admiring the apple. He took a goblet out of his coat, and crushed the apple. The juice from the metal miraculously dripped into the goblet, a pretty gold yellow color. Dionysus sipped it and smiled, before vanishing the goblet. “Your loyal friend, Automedon, shall be restored to you. Lady Artemis?”


	4. Artemis

Artemis was sitting comfortably on her throne, looking for all the world like someone who had their prey directly in their hands.The huntress stood, and Achilles ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. The Lady Artemis was clear on her views, and had loved Troy. Also, Patroclus had yet to be returned to him. Would the Gods be so kind, or deny him Patroclus once more? Achilles forced himself to ignore his doubts.  
She smiled in an ugl way down at him, her silver hair reaching down her back. She wore a simple white dress that shimmered with the pattern of moons embroidered on it. Achilles had no direct quarrel with her, except that Apollo was her twin. And any person who was so directly related to that maláka was nothing but trouble. He was extremely wary of her.   
“Your fourth task, for your fourth person, shall be to retrieve me a gryphon, alive." her voice was delicate but had steel in it, and she glared at him as she spoke. "They can be found in a country called America, and I shall transport you there. Go.”  
She waved her hands at him, and with an unpleasant swooping sensation in his stomach, that he was becoming annoyingly familiar with, he appeared in America. At the edge of a cliff. If not for his quick reflexes, he would have fallen off of it. He silently cursed her as he almost fell on his ass. For celestial beings, the gods could really be terrible.

Capturing the gryphon was no simple task, since it fought viciously. Also, it could fly and preferred the air, a territory Achilles had no power against. Achilles injured himself multiple times, leaping off cliffs and trees onto the beasts back, but falling. After several months, Achilles retrieved it with a trap and a net, dragging it to Mount Olympus. With its capture, Artemis gave him Penelope.  
“Who?” Achilles asked before he could stop himself. The goddess had not given him a look at his prize, and the name was not familiar to him. “Odysseus’s beloved wife, and an altogether amazing woman.” Artemis replied. “Your Patroclus would get along well with her. Be thankful I cooperated at all, boy. Now, go to Hera.”  
Disgruntled, Achilles went to Hera. Penelope! He had never even met the woman! Why her, over his beloved Patroclus? He knew Artemis disliked him, but why her? She played no part in his life, in his story. Sometimes, the Gods made no sense. Actually, strike that. Most of the time. They were quite annoying, even if he was technically related to them all.


	5. Queen Hera

“My task,” Hera said, lounging on a throne decorated with peacock feathers, a smile on her face, “Is to retrieve a head from a hydra. You will find it in Lerna.”  
Achilles nodded and left, wary. This task was easy. Only one of the heads from a hydra, and not even killing it? That was too simple. And her smile… it was too cunning, too mischievous for the task to be so simple. She was planning something. But what choice did Achilles have?  
He found the monster after trudging through the swamp for a few days, hunting it. The monster seemed to sense that he was not someone to be trifled with, and tried to avoid him at all costs. He finally trapped it, imprisoning it in a trap Charon had taught him what seemed a million years ago. He remembered taking to the trick easily, but Patroclus taking longer. It had been before they confessed their feelings for each other, and he had enjoyed being able to reach behind his friend and guide his gorgeous, brown hands that even then were slightly larger than Achilles' own, into the proper knot. It had led to many more fantasies about said hands, and had been both frustrating and amazing. Achilles smiled gently at the memory of a fourteen year old Patroclus, with gentle brown eyes, innocence and love in them. Those years at Mount Pelion had been the highlight of his life. He wondered how Charon was. Hopefully still teaching the next round of brats. Maybe these ones would get a better ending.  
But then again, probably not.  
It wasn’t until after Achilles brought Hera the head that he found out what she had been planning.

“Thank you, Achilles.” she said, accepting the head. “You did well. For this accomplishment, I shall present you with another person you care about. The fifth reincarnation shall be your wife, Deidamia!”  
“What!?” said Achilles, astonishment on his face. Deidamia? What importance was she? He certainly did not care about her, especially after she and his mother's wily ways made her his wife.  
Hera’s eyes narrowed. “She is important, Achilles. You may not love each other, but she has changed greatly. You may even become friends in reincarnation. Also, as an extra gift, I will make her different.”  
“Different? What do you mean, my lady?”  
“Because you are a mighty hero, and one who fought for my beloved Greece, I shall be kind. Count yourself lucky. She will not love you, in the future. Because I like you and Patroclus’ romance, and see it as a sort of marriage, she will fall in love with a woman. And, she has matured since you last saw her. She will be very different indeed.”  
“Thank you, my lady.” he said humbly, his mind still spinning. Please, please let Hera be right! If not, Achilles was sure that he would kill Deidamia. He did not have one fond memory of her, and it was worse than if he had got Agamemnon back! At least with Agamemnon, he had a direct reason to kill him (or at least an excuse to give Patroclus). He walked to Demeter, who would restore the sixth person to him.


	6. Demeter

Demeter looked down on him coldly, grain mixing with gold in her hair. She was another God whose actions he could not guess, since she had not chosen a side in the war. But, for the first time, this wild card did not have his Mother's ear. He had no idea what she would do.  
“Prince Achilles.” she said, nodding in acknowledgement. “The labour you shall fulfill for me is gathering water from the river Lethe. Since you cannot touch it, or your memories will be gone, use this.” She handed him a cup made of chestnut, that had power radiating off of it. “This water is a needed part for reincarnation. Fail, and no one will be reincarnated. Do not let me down. To get to the Underworld, I will entrust Hermes.”  
She swept away, and in her wake flew Hermes. “Take my hand, hero.”  
Achilles grasped the God's hand, and they appeared on the banks of the river Styx.

“Convince Charon to bring you in. Then, get the up and get out. I know what you are thinking, Achilles, but you will not find your beloved companion here. If you look, you may even lose him forever. Heed my warning. Get the job done.”  
With that, he left. Achilles went up to Charon, and threatened him until he allowed him to cross. After all, Charon was no fighter. And Achilles had killed a God before for Patroclus. He would do it again.  
Once in the Underworld, it was overwhelming not to search for Patroclus, but Achilles heeded Hermes’ words. He would not do anything to endanger Patroclus. Never again. Besides that, the task went by quick. Achilles had to tie up Cerberus, who attempted to prevent his entry, but since he was already dead he was mostly left alone. Once he retrieved the water, he made a hasty retreat to Olympus, careful not to spill a drop of water on himself. Though he had the feeling he could never forget Patroclus, he had no desire to attempt to. Also, he could lose some memories of their time together, and at this point those were all he had left. Even the image of forgetting one moment the two had shared was heartbreaking, even if it was of a fight or disagreement.  
When he got back and gave the Goddess the cup, she smiled. It was slightly terrifying. All the gods were scary in their own way, but Demeter ruled food. She could either allow you to prosper, or die. Everyone knew not to disrespect her.   
“Thank you, Prince. For your efforts, I grant you Briseis of Anatolia. And, to show my gratitude, a present of her affections. Instead of your beloved Patroclus, her affections will lie with your former wife. Do you accept?”  
Achilles’ heart soared. Yes! This would make Patroclus ecstatic, he had always felt guilty about Briseis’ unrequited love, and Deidamia would be off his back, too. It was more than he could have hoped. He thanked her profusely. Now here was a god he could adore.   
The next tasks would be simple, as they were for Poseidon and Hermes, two avid supporters of Greece. Also, Poseidon was fond of Thetis, and Hermes was one of the kinder gods.


	7. Poseidon

Poseidon was indifferent to him, but cared about Thetis. Achilles was thankful for his mother, though he knew that she was not exactly pleased with him. The two had a peculiar relationship, though they did love each other.  
Poseidon was on a blue throne resembling an ocean wave frozen before breaking. achilles half wanted to touch it, to see if it was in fact a wave, but didn't. The god and his mother would not be pleased. His famous trident was clutched in one hand. It wasn't gold, like the myths claimed, but silver. It fit him. He wore a blue outfit, and had blue tinged skin. Everything was slightly blue, actually, even his hair. His hair looked wet. He had a short beard, and white streaks. He resembled Achilles' father, a bit, except colder. His eyes were blue, like his brothers, except they were green also. His power was different from Zeus's, quieter.  
All Poseidon asked him to do was knock some sense into one of his multiple worshipers down on earth. The idiotic man had began to sacrifice humans in an attempt to plead to the god, and Poseidon had no desire for the lives. He directed Achilles to tell him to knock it off, or kill him.  
Achilles killed him. The man had no brains to speak of, and when Achilles told him to stop murdering his townspeople in the name of Poseidon, attempted to kill him. His exact words were: "I am the only true follower of Poseidon, die you-"  
Not great last words. Achilles gave him a smooth death, something he tried to do for all idiots he met. It wasn't their faults they were idiots, after all. Patroclus had taught him that within the first year they met. Achilles rapidly returned to Olympus, eager for his next task.  
Poseidon surveyed him, face blank. He revealed nothing, not even if he was disappointed that Achilles murdered such a loyal follower.   
"Achilles, son of Thetis. In thanks for you having done my deed, I offer you Menelaus, hero of Greece. You shall meet in the future. Well done."  
Achilles thanked him. Menelaus was a good man, though they hadn't really been close. He was a skilled fighter however, and respected Patroclus, two things that gave him Achilles' respect. Anyone who appreciated Patroclus was no idiot.


	8. Hermes

He was sent to Hermes the swift footed afterwards. The young god looked at him curiously, before smiling slightly. Achilles shivered a bit. There was something malicious about his smile. Hermes had not taken a side on the war, but had expressed his admiration of Hector before. He was probably not pleased about Achilles desecrating his foes body. Achilles couldn't truly blame him.  
Surprisingly, the task was easy. Hermes gave him his job for a day, of bringing souls to the Underworld.   
Achilles strapped on a pair of ill fitting gold sandals, and ran/flew. None of the faces were familiar, and it was hard to truly see them as he moved so fast. He grabbed their hand, and brought them to the shore, where Charon allowed them to go on or not. It wasn't until a little after noon he found a familiar face.  
His father.  
It had been forty five years after his death, as time moved differently when you were dead, and his fathers life had come to an end. He had been crushed upon the news of the death of his only son and the boy he had considered another son. He had listened and watched as the war went on without his son, had ruled a long sixty years, and eventually turned the throne over to a distant cousin of Achilles.   
Because of the blessing the gods had bestowed upon Peleus, he would live to his hundredth birthday and die the day after. The day Achilles took upon this role, it was the day after. Achilles found him in his bed.  
Now, Achilles had loved his father. He was not the best man, or the best father, but he tried. Thetis had always come first, though, and Peleus had never truly wanted the child of a goddess. Nevertheless, he had been kind and fair, and Achilles had liked him. It hurt to see him like this, ancient and tired. He rose slowly from his grave, eyes widening upon seeing his only child.  
"Achilles?"  
"Hello, father." said Achilles softly. One thing he would always love his father for was how hew treated Patroclus, as another son. Achilles wished he had had more time with him. Hopefully he would wind up in Elysium, and they would see each other again.  
"Its good to see you again, my child." The two embraced, Achilles taking his hand. "Why are you here?"  
"To lead you to the afterlife. Do you have your coin?"  
Peleus nodded, slipping it out from underneath his tongue. "But no Hermes?"  
"I'm taking his job for today."  
Peleus smiled. "Let me guess...Patroclus?"  
Achilles's eyes widened. Peleus laughed. "I'm many things, my son, none of them stupid. I saw how you looked at him and how your mother hated him. If this is what you must do to be with him for eternity, then so be it. Now, I think it is time to get on with it."  
"Thank you." said Achilles, shocked. He swept them away to the Underworld and made sure his father got VIP treatment by Charon.   
"Oh, and Achilles?" said Peleus, just as he was about to leave. He sat on the crowded boat, about to go on.  
"Yes?"  
"You have made me proud."  
And for the first time since Patroclus had died, Achilles smiled. It was a tiny thing, and nothing compared to what they used to be, but it was a smile. He left.

Achilles was exhausted by the end of it, having moved faster than he ever had, bringing the young, old, and in between to Hades. It was saddening to see so many of them without coin, but Achilles didn't have the time to help them.   
It was after the job was over that Hermes' prank came to light. Achilles had thought that seeing his father, though it was not as terrible as he would have thought, was the prank. But no. With an evil smile, Hermes thanked him for his help, sipping ambrosia and looking relaxed. Then, he returned to him his 'best friend' Agamemnon. Achilles almost threw up right on Hermes' golden throne. Judging by Hermes' clear smile, he knew how Achilles really felt and was laughing inwardly. Achilles resisted the overwhelming urge to punch the smirk off the gods face. As he staggered to the next god, he continued a chant over and over again in his brain.  
'Patroclus, Patroclus, Patroclus, Patroclus,' he thought firmly. Punching a god would give him nothing but trouble. and he would never see Patroclus again. Achilles shivered. Forget about it. No way in hell was he going to risk losing Patroclus over something as petty as Agamemnon.

And so, it was with gritted teeth, he turned to his next god: his enemy, Ares.


	9. Ares

Ares, as usual, was an asshole. He reclined on a huge throne, red and black, with human skulls on the side. Achilles sourly thought that he had copied Hades' style. He hated Ares. The only god he hated more was Apollo, who had had a direct hand in Patroclus' death. But in his own way, with Ares being the god of war and on the side of the Trojans, he had also had a hand. And Achilles could never forgive that.  
Ares looked down on Achilles as though he was a particularly trying bug. "The great Achilles," he drawled. "Are you sure you can do my task?"  
"Yes," said Achilles, glaring up at him. He would not quake in his boots. He had little left to fear.  
"We shall see," said the god. "Find and bring me a manticore."  
"And where can I find one?" asked Achilles, barely quelling the urge to sneer. He could not bring his pride into this.  
"I don't know. Figure it out, mighty hero."  
Achilles snarled, but his mother caught his eye. She shook her head. He took a huge breath and nodded. He could do this. He spun on his heel and headed toward the circle that would bring him back to Earth. He had to hunt a manticore.

The problem is, he had no idea where to go. He went to Greece, on the outskirts, but found and heard nothing. So he moved on. He went to places he didn't know the name of, over a small sea, past countless empires and towns. He ran into no one he recognized, and anyone who knew him he ran from. He was dead, after all. And to him, so was the world, at least until Patroclus came back. Eventually, he came upon a small town in a curious empire by the name of Persia. The villagers were few and far between, but each told the story- in dramatic gestures and images- of a manticore.  
All Achilles could feel was relief.

The images were hideous, showing a creature that was just as the legends had described it- a beast with the face of a human, the body of a lion, the tale of a scorpion, and too many teeth. Achilles didn't know how the artist had gotten close enough to see all these details, but they were helpful, nonetheless. So he suited up with a spear and a sword and traveled into the mountains, where it was said to reside. It took him three days to track it down. It was hideous.  
He found it eating an unrecognizable carcass, either human or bear. Though Achilles approached the monster on light feet, barely making a sound, it sensed his presence. It spun, rows of teeth an unpleasant red, and snarled. Its tale, red and poisonous, stood above its head. Achilles tensed.  
For a minute, the man and monster simply stared at each other, neither moving. The monster seemed to be assessing Achilles, but he really didn't want to think about that. It would only confuse him. He had to be patient. With little warning, it struck. The bright tale came forward, quicker than any man, right into the spot where Achilles was. Achilles stood patiently, and at the last second (a move Patroclus, if he had seen this, would have yelled at him for) and chopped the stinger clean off. The animal screamed in a human mans voice, which almost made Achilles shudder. He threw his spear instead, and it hit the animal in the breast. It died at his feet, moaning, stinger still moving a little. He stopped a second, to catch his breath and see if it was dead, before picking up the carcass. Then, carefully so he wouldn't touch the tip which held the stinger, he stuffed it in the beasts mouth. He allowed himself a brief moment of pride (he was Achilles, after all) and then began to head back down the mountain. He eventually found a river, where he contacted his mother and told her he had finished, before being swept away to Mount Olympus. 

He nearly threw the beast at Ares' feet. He was pleased to see the god flinch. "You have completed your task." he said, lip curling. "Good. You are not a complete and utter failure, then. You may see the lovely Aphrodite, now. I grant you Hector."  
Achilles stared at him, mouth open, eyes unbelieving. He didn't even know what to think. Hector. Hector. Hector? Hector!  
"What the fu-"  
"Right! Many thanks, ares. My son, may I have a word with you?" asked Thetis, breaking in. Ares looked ecstatic. Achilles allowed himself to be led away by his mother, head spinning.


	10. Aphrodite

His mother and him retreated to a private room. The first thing she said was just his name, and he rushed to her arms. Even after all this time, they were still comforting. She rarely hugged him, but when she did, they were always comforting.  
“You are so brave.” she whispered. “I do not pretend to know why you do these things for a mere mortal, but I wish to apologize. I will not lose you again, Achilles. If you will allow it, I wish to be a fixture in your next life as well, but this time more...accepting of Patroclus. I can not act as though I like him, but I will not threaten him, and do anything to harm either you or him,”  
“Thank you, mother.” he said quietly. It would be too much to hope for them to love each other, but tolerating he could do. Even her reaching out and promising to try meant more to him than he would have thought. “I would love that.”  
"And one last thing, my son. Aphrodite appears as the ideal lover to whoever sees her, male or female. To you, she may appear to be Patroclus."  
Achilles gulped. He hadn't paid her much previous attention,only seeing the pink dress she wore and brown skin, but it made sense. He steeld himself. Even if it wasn't truly him, it would still be good to see Patroclus again. But he couldn't let Aphrodite's appearance cloud his judgement.   
With that, they returned to the Throne Room. Achilles was not happy, exactly, he could never be happy without Patroclus at his side, but he did feel better. Making amends with his mother and embracing the possible future made him have something he hadn’t had in a long time: hope.  
His next task was for Aphrodite, and he knew it would be difficult. She had no love for him, since she had not decreed his and Patroclus’ love, and since she had deeply loved Troy and Paris.   
He arrived to find her lounging on a pink throne. She was Patroclus. But it was not the fact that he was wearing a pink dress that upset the image it was Patroclus. It was the look on his face. Aphrodite looked down on him like he was one of the most vile things she had ever seen, a look he had never seen on Patroclus's face before. It did not suit him. and he never would have worn it while looking at Achilles, even after the major mess up that had happened up to and after his death,  
And so, she gave him the most difficult task yet. To go to the Fates, and retrieve their scissors for her to keep. Quite frankly, he had no idea of how to do this. The Fates guarded those scissors carefully, and they had the power to end anyones life with them. Also, a part of Achilles feared that should he succeed, in retaliation they would cut the reincarnated Patroclus’ string early. He could not stand to lose him again.

So, Achilles stood outside of the entrance to the Fates abode, restlessly shifting and trying to think. He could not steal them, that would mean risking Patroclus’ life again, but if he did not get them Patroclus would have no life to lose. There had to be a way to get them without provoking the Fates. But how? After an hour of pacing, Achilles decided to just ask for them. It was the only foreseeable way he could get them, and it was worth a shot.  
He walked in, to see the women. Their faces were obscured by hoods, and they seemed identical. They looked at him simultaneously. One unspooled the thread, another held it, and the third cut it. Surrounding them were webs everywhere, each strong and gorgeous. Achilles could see no difference between them all, but it mattered not.  
“Achilles,” spoke the one who spun the thread, and Achilles identified her as Clotho. “We wondered when you would appear.”  
“You wish for our shears.” said another, their voices identical in raspiness and wisdom.  
“But what would you do to get them?” asked the Fate with the shears, who Achilles knew as Atropos.  
“Anything.” he replied, no doubt in his voice. “Anything to see Patroclus again.”  
“We shall give you them.” said Clotho.   
“If you answer a riddle.” continued Lachesis, who determined how long someone would live by holding it out.  
“Of course.” Achilles replied.  
“Then answer us this.” said Atropos, and the sisters spoke in unison.  
“It can not be seen whenever it's there  
It fills up a room, it's much like the air.  
It can not be touched, there's nothing to hear  
It comes with loss, and many fear.”  
Achilles paused to think, reciting the lines. And then it occurred to him. After all, he’d felt nothing but it for quite some time, now.   
“Darkness.” he said, and the Fates nodded. Atropos handed him the shears.  
“Let us not meet again,” said Clotho, and the others nodded. Achilles did everything he could not to bolt out of there.  
Aphrodite frowned and glared at him when he gave her the shears, but his Mother gave him a smile. She barely spoke, her voice only faintly resembling Patroclus's. He got Helen for the reincarnation, and had to force himself to grit his teeth and thank her. Helen! Didn’t she help start the forsaken war?  
Thanks a lot, Aphrodite.


	11. Apollo

He walked to Apollo next, the God he despised the most. Apollo was glaring at him, a sneer on his lips. Achilles gritted his teeth in an effort not to snipe at him. It wouldn’t get him anywhere.  
He had been told, by Automedon, what his most hated god had done to Patroclus. How he had swept him up, plucked him out of his armor like a toy, and thrown him carelessly to the ground. Though Apollo was gorgeous, with bronze skin, and short gold hair, Achilles could find no beauty in the god. All he could feel was hate.  
It no doubt reflected in his eyes, and he was proud to say the god flinched. He recovered all too swiftly, though. And spoke, his voice like honey.  
“My task for you, Mighty Achilles, is to kill the Leucrotta. I assume you know what it is?”  
Achilles looked up sharply, surprised. Leucrotta’s were terrible things of myths, cannibals that appeared as dogs but imitated humans voices. They were said to imitate the person you love most's voice, and make it almost impossible to kill them. But also, it was said that should you kill it, if you took the eyes and put them under your tongue you could tell the future. Apollo would value something like that.  
“Yes.” he replied, no emotion in his voice.  
“Track one down, kill it, bring it to me, yada yada. Go. I can’t stand to see your face right now.”  
Achilles clenched his fist, highly tempted to punch the god right where it would hurt. Then, unbidden, a memory came to him. Patroclus.

_Patroclus stormed after him, into the tent. His beautiful face was pulled into a grimace, anger and sadness on his face. Achilles could barely look at him.  
“I cannot believe that you said that to Agamemnon!” he cried, his hands in the air.  
“He deserved it.” Achilles said cooly. “For insulting me, he deserved to be killed. He was lucky that I spared him.”  
“Lucky?!” Patroclus cried out. “That was not lucky, that was a threat in the form of an insult! In other times, I would take your sides, but all he said was that you were too proud.”  
Achilles stared at him in confusion as he continued. Before this, Patroclus had always sided with him against Agamemnon. It hurt, more than any spear, for him to side with his enemy.  
“I love you Achilles, but one day someone is going to insult your pride and I am afraid that you will make a grave mistake concerning it.” He took a deep breath, and kept talking “And then, perhaps you will realize that your pride and selfishness has caused you to lose everything.”  
He turned to leave, but paused at the exit flap. Without turning around, he said “And I cannot decide if I want to be there to watch or not.” ___

__

___He had been right. And Achilles would not allow his pride to rule him again.  
“Yes, Lord Apollo,” he said, unfisting his hand. Apollo looked shocked, as Achilles swept out.  
He found the animal in a place called England, which was rather dreary in his opinion. It was bigger than a dog, with a wide opening mouth and bony ridges instead of teeth. It called out to him in Patroclus’ voice, scorning him for killing Patroclus, and telling him no one could ever love Achilles. Achilles closed his eyes, ignored the pain in his chest, and shot it in the heart. It died instantly. He dragged it to Mount Olympus and threw it at Apollo’s feet. For his efforts, he got Paris. He said nothing, and turned to the King Of The Gods, and the task that would determine whether he would get Patroclus back. Finally, the almost end. His last task._


	12. The King Of The Gods

The King stroked his white beard thoughtfully, eyes never leaving Achilles.”You have done well.” he said softly. His voice had a rumble that reminded Achilles of thunder. He had a low voice, that spoke of power.   
“But we shall see if it is enough. My task to you, that will allow you to get your companion back, is one of love. Pick a memory of him and you, and show it to me. If I deem it good enough, you will get him back. I will give you a day. Choose wisely.”  
With that, he and the other Gods stood and left. Achilles sat on the floor and thought. A memory, to prove why Patroclus should come back? Or one to show of their love? What could that possibly mean, and where would he even begin. So, he paused and skirted through his memories. And there were a lot.  
Finally it came to him. He stood and as if by command, Zeus stepped in. “You have chosen.”   
Achilles nodded. Wordlessly, Zeus reached up to touch his forehead.

_Patroclus stroked his hair and Achilles closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of those gentle fingers at his temples. He wanted life to be like this, always. Him and Patroclus and nothing else in the world but their love. He could not believe that he had such promise for his future here in his hands, within reach. The chance to be a hero, to claim untold glory, to perhaps pass eternally into legend, and all of it with Patroclus beside him. He could see nothing that could stop him, that could stop them. It had all finally come together, every piece of the puzzle in its perfect place._  
He opened his eyes then, gazing up at Patroclus. A thought occurred to him just then as he looked up at those adoring eyes.  
"Name one hero who was happy."  
Patroclus sat back a little, thinking a moment. They had heard of the madness of Heracles, of Jason losing his wife and children to murder, even Icarus died just after receiving the promise of freedom. Their tales were courageous, but never with happy endings.  
"You can't." He sat up, leaning close.  
"I can't."  
"I know. They never let you be famous and happy." He took Patroclus' hand, smiling conspiratorially. "I'll tell you a secret."  
"Tell me."   
"I'm going to be the first." He pressed their palms together, pulses beating against each other in a beautiful rhythm. "Swear it."  
"Why me?"  
"Because you're the reason. Swear it."   
"I swear it," he whispered, squeezing their joined hands tightly.  
"I swear it," Achilles echoed, binding the oath. They would be happy, always. Nothing could stop them. He grinned, wanted to throw his arms around Patroclus and tell this beautiful boy he loved him a hundred times, a thousand. It would never be enough, but it could be close. "I feel like I could eat the world raw."  
It was their last moment of silence, of innocence, of purity. The words still lingered on his lips as a trumpet blew somewhere within the trees, too close for comfort. 

Zeus returned from his memories, tears shining on Achilles’ face. Even only seeing Patroclus in a memory was enough. Seeing them so young, so happy, so foolish, brought emotions Achilles couldn’t even begin to understand. So he didn’t. He stood back, and awaited Zeus’ verdict.  
“Thank you for showing me,” the God said, his voice like a growl of thunder. “I can tell what that memory meant to you. You love him.”  
“More than anyone or anything,” Achilles said, their gazes never breaking.  
Zeus tilted his head slightly, to think. Then, he spoke.  
“Achilles, Prince of Pthia, ‘mightiest of the greeks’, son of The Goddess Thetis and King Peleus, you have proven yourself worthy, in strength, wit, and love. For your deeds, I award you with twelve reincarnations beside yourself, beginning with your beloved.”  
Yes! It took most of Achilles’ effort not to leap up and start cheering.  
“I will now send you to birth in the 21st century. Good luck. You have done well.” Zeus offered him a small smile that reeked of power. He waved one hand, and Achilles disappeared, to be born again in the year 1999. 

In this life, he would do it all right. He would forget his pride, and put Patroclus first. He would find all twelve people, and make amends. He would tell Patroclus everything, and beg for forgiveness for his past mistakes. And, he would love Patroclus without anywhere to go or do, with no death lingering over their heads. All this, he swore to himself, a promise he would never break. This time, everything would be alright.

Hopefully.


End file.
